How Spy I Am (25 page)

The short, vicious
uppercut sank into her solar plexus, and she squeaked and doubled
over, her face slamming into my shoulder, fingers tangled in my
hair. As she continued to fold, her hold on my hair pulled me down
toward her bent back, and a very small part of my mind gave a wince
of reluctant sympathy at what I was about to do.

I was pretty sure I
felt her nose break when my knee pistoned up.

She fell with a
blubbering wail, and I thudded painfully to my knees beside her
when she yanked my hair again. My face inches from the pavement, I
tore at her grip, losing hair and patience at the same rate.

At last, I hammered
the point of my elbow into her side and ripped my hair free to
sprint for the condo building’s entrance. When I leaned on the
button, the speaker crackled to life immediately.

“Aydan?” Hellhound’s
rasp filled the tiny entry.

“Let me in,
quick!”

The lock released and
I tumbled through the door, slamming it shut behind me.

Home free. Thank God.
I leaned my sweaty forehead against the glass, gasping and
trembling. I was reaching up to rub at the resulting greasy smudge
with my jacket sleeve when I heard Arnie speak again, but he wasn’t
speaking to me.

“Got her.” The words
were clearly audible through the glass.

Panic slammed through
me. “OhShitOhShitOh
Shit
…” I ran flat-out for the stairs.

I pounded up two
flights with my brain screaming denial. This couldn’t be happening.
I’d planned it so carefully. It wasn’t one o’clock yet,
goddammit!

I skidded into
Hellhound’s door with a thud that knocked the wind out of me. I
twisted the knob, throwing my weight against the door before
remembering he always left the deadbolt locked from inside.

“ShitShitShit…” I bit
off my swearing and rattled the handle, restraining myself from
hammering on the door only because I didn’t want to wake Miss Lacey
across the hall.

An eternal few seconds
later, I heard the deadbolt slide back. I flung myself inside,
cannoning off Hellhound as I dashed for the tiny bedroom that
served as his office.

“Aydan, what the
fuck…” he began.

“Need your computer,”
I threw over my shoulder, already diving for his desk.

Thank God, he’d left
it on. The login screen mocked me.

“Password!” My voice
was a rising squawk. “
I need your password
!”

“Hang on.” Hellhound
shouldered me aside, his nimble musician’s fingers dancing over the
keyboard.

Seconds later, I was
typing the browser address, my icy fumbling hands wasting precious
time getting it wrong twice. I switched to two-finger typing. Just
get it right.

I smacked the Enter
key and vibrated in front of the screen while the connection
completed.

“Dunno what she’s
doin’,” Hellhound rasped into the phone. “She’s workin’ on my
computer.” He paused. “What?”

There it was. The
remote view of my home computer read 12:58 A.M. when I punched the
delete key. Twice. Permanently delete. Yes.

“Stop, darlin’.”
Hellhound’s hands closed over mine. “Kane says I gotta make ya
stop.”

I let my quivering
knees drop me. “I’m done.”

As he gazed down at me
worriedly, gravity pulled me the rest of the way down and I slumped
on the floor, panting and trembling. The tremors turned into long
shudders that racked my body in waves, and Hellhound knelt beside
me, his face tense.

“Gotta call ya back,”
he said into the phone, and hung up.

He sat on the floor
and pulled me into his lap, his strong arms warm around me. I
huddled into his bulk, soaking up his blessed body heat,
half-laughing and half-crying in gasping breaths against his
chest.

He stroked my hair,
peering down anxiously. “Aydan? Are ya okay, darlin’?”

“F-fine. I’m fine.” I
let out a hysterical giggle and burrowed closer, shaking
uncontrollably.

“No, ya ain’t. What’s
wrong?”

“Just… c-c-cold…”

“You’re sweatin’ up a
storm.” He frowned down at me. “When did ya eat last?”

“S-s-supper…”

“An’ ya been runnin’.”
His arms tightened around me, and he dropped a kiss on my forehead.
“Come on, darlin’, I know what ya need.”

He half-carried me to
his sagging couch and propped me in the corner, swaddled in one of
his hand-crocheted afghans while he rattled around in the kitchen.
A few minutes later, he was back with a steaming bowl and a package
of crackers.

“Sorry, darlin’, I
ain’t got any orange juice, but this oughta do it,” he said,
handing me a spoon. “It’s just instant soup, but if ya eat some
crackers ya should be okay.”

“T-thanks.” My tremors
splashed most of the soup out of the spoon on my first try, and I
blew out a breath of frustration and crushed the crackers into the
bowl. After a few seconds, the first hot, soggy mouthful burned its
way down my throat.

Hellhound sat watching
me in silence for a few minutes before picking up his phone again.
I winced at the abrupt crackle on the other end of the line,
imagining Kane’s terse greeting.

He was going to be
mad. Well, madder. But maybe I could still pull this out of the
fire. My email hadn’t been sent, and I’d retrieve my USB stick
before I left for home.

Hellhound’s voice
interrupted my racing thoughts. “Yeah, she’s okay. Blew in here
nothin’ but eyeballs an’ asshole, but I’m gettin’ some food into
her an’ she’ll be fine.”

A pause. “Dunno. I’ll
let ya talk to her.”

I took the phone
reluctantly. “Hello?”

“What happened?” The
expressionless cop voice.

“Nothing. I just had
an errand to run.”

“I’ve secured this
line. Tell me what happened.”

Shit, I had hoped to
postpone this conversation at least until tomorrow, when I’d had
some time to think.

“Um, nothing happened.
I was, um… I didn’t want Stemp to know where I was. I was outside
for a long time and I got cold, that’s all.”

“Hellhound said you
were meeting a contact and you’d left instructions for him to call
me if you didn’t make your check-in.” His voice was flat.

Shit again.

“The contact didn’t
show, and Arnie jumped the gun by a few minutes.”

Hellhound straightened
indignantly and held out his wrist, pointing at his watch. I
sighed. “My fault. I should have thought to synchronize watches
with him. I’m sorry he woke you. Just go back to bed. Everything’s
fine.”

“Aydan…” Kane’s voice
was tight. “Tell me. Now.”

“That’s all I can tell
you. I’m really sorry. Good night.” I pressed the disconnect button
and squeezed my eyes shut, half-expecting the receiver to explode
in my hand from the force of his anger on the other end.

When nothing happened,
I slowly opened my eyes to face Hellhound’s frown.

“Sorry I got ya in
shit, darlin’,” he rasped. “I waited a coupla extra minutes just to
be safe, but I guess my watch musta been fast…”

“It’s okay. It’s not
your fault. I should have thought of it.” I pulled the blanket over
my head and groaned. “He’s going to kill me.”

“Really?” The alarm in
Hellhound’s voice made me emerge from the shelter of the soft
wool.

“No,” I reassured him.
“At least, I doubt it. Probably not tonight, anyway.”

He scowled. “That
ain’t helpin’, Aydan.”

“Sorry. No, I don’t
think he’ll actually kill me. But he’s really, really pissed off at
me.” I bit back a whimper. “Like he wasn’t already mad enough.”

Arnie moved over to
slide an arm around my shoulders. “Eat your soup, darlin’. It’ll
all work out in the end.”

I leaned into him. “I
hope so.” After a moment, I straightened and went back to spooning
up sodden crackers. “What happened to your date?” I mumbled through
a mouthful.

“Kicked her out.”

“I’m really sorry,
Arnie. I didn’t mean to spoil your evening.”

“Ain’t your fault,
darlin’. She started raggin’ on me about two-timin’ her.” He
grimaced. “I only brought her home one other time, coupla months
ago. Shoulda known better.”

“Yeah, she seemed like
the possessive type.” I fingered the livid scratches on the back of
my hand. “Or maybe the rabid-psycho-bitch type. Lucky she missed my
face.”

“What?” Hellhound
straightened, staring.

“She was waiting for
me in the parking lot. I guess she must’ve overheard when I said
‘see you later’.”

Hellhound took my
hand, turning it gently to examine the scratches. “Better get some
antiseptic on those, darlin’. Wouldn’t wanna get rabies or
anythin’.” He looked up, grinning. “So you’re sayin’ I missed a
catfight? Damn, I woulda liked to’ve seen that. Was she still
standin’ when ya left?”

“No.” Guilt squeezed
my heart. “I think I broke her nose. We should probably go down and
make sure she’s okay.”

Hellhound rose to drop
a quick kiss on my forehead. “Don’t worry about it, darlin’. I’ll
go on down, but she’s prob’ly fine. You get those scratches cleaned
up.”

He slipped out the
door, locking it behind him, and I made for the bathroom.

I groaned at the sight
of the hollow-eyed hag staring out of the mirror from under a wild
tangle of hair. I pulled my sweat-clammy shirt away from my skin,
shivering. I still had to pick up my USB stick, and I had a
two-hour drive home. That would make it about four A.M, and I could
get a few hours sleep before showing up at Jack’s place.

Or.

I straightened as a
much more attractive option occurred to me. I could hop in the
shower for a few minutes and be cuddled up all warm and naked in
Hellhound’s bed when he got back. Convince him it was permanently
over with Kane, get some hot sex, a few hours of sleep, and I could
still make it back in time for Jack’s curry if I went directly
there in the morning. That sounded like a hell of a plan.

Except I’d need a
change of clothes.

And I still had to
retrieve that USB stick tonight. I didn’t dare leave it there any
longer than necessary.

And I’d be frustrated
as hell if I couldn’t convince Hellhound to play. I really wasn’t
in the mood for rejection. And if I pushed him too hard…

Dammit, I’d already
destroyed one friendship over sex. Time to cut my losses.

By the time the scrape
of the deadbolt announced Hellhound’s return, I was stretched out
on the sofa half asleep while Hooker purred on my chest, kneading
my shoulder rhythmically with his big furry paws.

I cracked an eye open
as Hellhound leaned down, smiling, to tuck the afghan around me.
“It’s okay, darlin’, I couldn’t find her, so she musta been okay,”
he murmured. “Just go back to sleep.”

“I can’t.” I struggled
reluctantly upright, relocating the cat to the warm nest of wool
beside me. “I still have one more stop tonight, and then I have to
drive home.”

“Don’t think that’s a
good idea. You’re bagged, ya shouldn’t be drivin’.”

I sighed. “I know. But
I really have to go and pick up… um, I still have to do this one
thing tonight. And once I get in the car, I might as well just keep
going. I have to be back in Silverside for eleven tomorrow morning
anyway.”

Hellhound eyed me
dubiously. “Okay,” he said slowly. “Be careful, Aydan. Drive
safe.”

“Thanks, I will. And
thanks again for doing this for me tonight.”

I gave him a quick hug
and left.

Even worrying over my
fractured friendship with Kane wasn’t enough to keep me alert on
the long drive home. When I had to pull over for the third time, I
groaned aloud and viciously punched the button to activate the
four-way flashers.

Pacing around the car
in the cold darkness, I wondered for the umpteenth time if Kane was
mad enough to rat me out to Stemp.

I couldn’t really
blame him if he did. After all, his duty was to keep me in one
piece for Stemp’s electronic espionage. Add that to our current
disharmony, and I’d be shocked if he hadn’t told Stemp already.

I gave the back tire a
couple of perfunctory kicks, cursing without much enthusiasm. What
would Stemp do?

I was pretty much
guaranteed another session with Jack’s lie detector. If Stemp asked
the right questions, that was the end of Robert. And probably the
end of me, too. Stemp would likely decide I couldn’t be
trusted.

Idiot. Why hadn’t I
just talked to Stemp in the first place?

I slid back behind the
wheel, thumped my forehead against it a couple of times, and put
the car in gear again.

By the time I pulled
up at my gate, the dashboard clock read 4:20 AM and my entire body
vibrated with fine tremors. I groaned my way out of the driver’s
seat and stumbled over to squint at the combination lock. I had to
blink a couple of times to bring the numbers into focus, and by the
time I parked the car in the garage and sleepwalked into the house,
I could barely keep my eyes open.

In my bedroom, I
relied on moonlight for illumination while I staggered into the
walk-in closet to strip. I had just dropped my underwear into the
hamper when some sixth sense made icy gooseflesh stand up on my
arms.

The silence was
wrong.

I was stooping for the
waist holster I’d left on the floor when a large figure lunged out
of the deep shadow in the corner of the closet.

I made a wild grab for
my gun, but I was too slow. A steely hand crushed my wrist, jerking
it up behind me. A heavy weight slammed me to the floor, the cold
hardwood biting my naked skin. A knee ground agonizingly into my
back.

I had only enough
breath for a strangled cry, only enough time to flail once with my
free hand before both my wrists were pinned behind my back.

The full force of
panic hadn’t even struck me yet when a voice spoke from behind
me.